


Dare I hope?

by KhairaD



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Domestic violence you guessed it, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I'll tag as I go, Romance, United States of Auradon (Disney), Violence, shitty parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16222538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhairaD/pseuds/KhairaD
Summary: After the events of Cotillon, Uma realizes she can never be the same anymore. However, the girl did make a promise that she intends to keep. At all cost.





	1. Back on the Isle of the Lost

**Author's Note:**

> HI. I'm like a little nervous. I’m new to this fandom so I’m a little lost. But yeah… My name’s Khaira and I’m 19 years old. I’m currently in the beginning of my second year in Psychology. If you didn’t guess it by now, English is not my first language. I’m actually French, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes I’ll probably make.  
> I’m also new to this fandom, so I’m sorry if I didn’t quite yet perceive the characters’ personality. But all in all, I hope you’ll enjoy your reading, and I’ll see you at the end for more talking <3

 

The wind rushes in her locks, and with a flick of her tongue, she tastes salt on her lips. In the distance, a patch of land meets the line of the sea. The land she failed to conquer several months ago.

 

A tug on one of her braids brings her back on the Isle of The Lost.

 

“What ye daydreaming about, Uma?”

 

The suave tone of his Scottish accent makes her turn to face him. Leaning against the ship's railings, her golden bead between his fingers, a grin curled the lips of Harry Hook.

 

The sea which shakes away the feeling of defeat that already plagued her enough these months.

 

“Nothing important”, she mumbles between tight teeth.

 

_It really wasn't._

 

 _“_ What were we talking about?”

 

She solely recalls the subject of the orphans they took in earlier that day. They were supposed to find a safe place for them to settle in. But she can't remember where they left off. Her first mate looks straight at her, waves

rolling behind his eyes, before lowering his lips on her braid.

 

“About the last two wee lads. We have yet to find 'em a place”, he whispered to the bead.

 

Ursula's daughter recollects chubby cheeks, timid smiles and blond heads.

 

“Right. So, I think I can sneak one of them in my mother's shop.” Harry dropped her bead, letting her braid slip between the leather of his hand.”

 

“Ye don't have much space in yer room.”

 

 “Enough for one more person, at least”, the girl assured, turning back to the sea, the wind chanting in her ears.

James Hook's son chew on his lips in thought, while straitening his hair on his scalp.

 

“What about the last one?”

 

“All the quarters are already packed...”

 

“What about me home?” She quirks an eyebrow at him. He returns her gaze with a slight widening of his eyes.

 

“My Da is most certainly drunk at this hour (he fiddles his pocket watch). I'll just have to sneak out the lad early in the morning.” Uma eyes his far-off look on the sea. He didn't lost his hold on the watch of his father.

 

She slips a hand on the railings, close to his own. “We don't want the kid hurt.”

 

 _I don't want you hurt,_ the thought lingers in her mind. Harry didn't return to his father for over a week now.

 

The sound of her voice brings him back from his thoughts. His eyes fall on her hand. Harry focuses on her knuckles, which he brushed with his fingertips. Before caring them to his lips.

 

“Of course, cap'tain”, he said, a lopsided grin growing across his face. She returns a smirk of her own.

 

Uma then turns to the main deck, where their newcomers were listening to shreds of pirate’s tails. She leaves her musings with the sea and its roar. Her first mate wasn't far to follow. 

Confidence in her feet, power in her smile, the Captain promptly approaches her crew. She drops a hip and leans on the pommel of her sword.

 

“Alright, listen up people!” All eyes are on her in a matter of seconds. The rest of the crew who were off the main deck hastily made their way to her.

 

“Harry and I managed to find a way to accommodate everyone”, Ursula's daughter affirmed, while folding her arms on her chest. At the sound of his name, the pirate confirms his presence by the warmth of a shoulder. “We

divided you in two main groups.”

 

She designed by a movement of her head a group of two boys and a girl. “You three will stay on the ship. You'll sleep in the quarters below deck – Jonas, you'll show them the way.”

 

Uma directed her stare on the two kids remaining. Brother and sister, if she remembers correctly.

 

“The two of you will come with either me or Harry. Your choice, but make it quick kids”, the sea witch advises with furrowed brows.

 

The captain inspects the hesitant step the girl takes – her brows low on her forehead. Features too tight for her young age.

 

“I can't stay away from my brother”, she asserts, taking a hold of the boy's wrist. The blond boy slightly leans on his sister as a response.

 

Uma's partially opened lips let out a sigh. She drops a knee on the ground. “Listen, it's only for this night. I need time to find a permanent solution. Got it?”

 

While her words might seem sharp, her tone couldn't be more tender. At least that's what her soft breath on Mandy's full cheeks communicate. She raised uncertain hazel orbs on the Captain's features. She finds abysmal

brown eyes, that shined with a glint of understanding.

 

With a thoughtful expression, she attempts a glance at her twin. Ron breaks free from her hold and trails his fingers to her hand. He gave it a light squeeze, his unfazed gaze holding her own. Reassured, the girl slowly

nods her head to the sea witch.

 

Along with the gentle curl of her lips, Uma wordlessly promised security through a ruffle of blond hair.

 

She promptly got up on her feet and addressed her second mate – who she spotted in the crowd sitting on a barrel by the railings: “Gil, don't forget to stop by my mother's shop to bring back food to our new members. Just

ask the chief for the food.”

 

He leaves his barrel, getting ready to depart, before she stops him with a pointed finger and a stern expression. “Don't you dare take a bite of that food on your way back”, Uma warns him between tight teeth.

With a gulp, he swiftly shakes his head yes and darted towards Ursula's fish and chips.

 

Satisfied, she called for her crew to return to their occupations with a flip of her braids.

 

The sea witch nods her head to the girl who will share her bed tonight to follow her. The little blonde follows her steps. The two girls leave the main deck and were just about to return to land, when a hand seize Uma's.

 

A downpour of silver and teal blew on Harry's face. Her expression fixed in irritation melt away when her eyes catches his. She crooks a brow, and cracks a smirk, before responding to his demand of attention:

 

“What is it Harry?”

 

“I was wondering if I could come with ye to yer ma's Shoppe.”

 

“For what?” Uma asked, facing him fully.“Don't ye have any preparations for tomorrow’s opening?” The pirate inquires, playing with the handle of his hook. “Already done it this mornin'.”

 

Even on her day off, she rises with the sun, he thought as her gaze lost itself among the crew's activities. He takes a step forward in her personal space, towering her frame. The young Hook tickles the skin of her knuckles

with his free hand.

 

Her attention falls back on him, and the grin etched in his features.

 

“What about some company then?”

 

“You gotta take care of the boy. And I have the girl with me.”

 

“Ye know I will. And what's _one_ more person?”

 

He takes a glance at the kid, who was waiting silently, scrutinizing the point of her holed boots. A chuckle bubbles from deep inside Uma's throat, which steals his attention right back.

He swears he felt the warmth of her laugh high on his cheeks. The boy can't help but letting escape an infatuated gaze on his sea empress.

 

“Fine", she concedes. “But as soon as you finish eating, I kick your ass out, am I clear?”

 

“As clear as water, darlin'.”

 

With a last smirk gracing her delicate features, she turns on her heels. He follows with delight in his steps. The wee lass close to his Captain's left side.

 


	2. Heavy thoughts

The trio made their way to Ursula's fish and ships in pleasant silence. They reach the dinner and Uma pushed open the ranch styled doors. Harry left his sword in the barrel at the check-up point, at the entrance. As for the kid, she seems to contemplate cautiously her new surroundings.

They meet Gill on his way out – two seemingly heavy plastic bags in his hands. The sea witch appreciated his work with a sharp nob. Harry gives him a loud pat on his shoulder and he's out of the establishment.

Ursula's daughter discarded her cumbersome jacket on the counter. She throws some stray braids over her shoulder and invites the blond to sit with a shake of her arm.

“Make yourself comfortable, I'll bring you somethin' to eat.”

The captain heads towards the kitchen.

She does as she's instructed. Mandy walks to one of the high chair. But she struggles to keep her balance on the seat. The girl starts to slip out of her chair, her fingers gripping the edges of the counter.

But a swiftly movement prevents her to hit the ground. She looks up to the hard features of the Captain's right hand.

 “Careful there.”

He's holding her still by the waist and redirects her to face the counter. He retrieves his hook from his pant’s loops, before putting it on the table. The boy takes a chair beside her.

Mandy gives him a sidelong glance. She notes his leather overcoat missing. Only a hooded tank top covers his body. Well, barely. Since its essentially just shreds. What's his name again? The twelve years old inquires inwardly.

He caught her staring and she averts her eyes hurriedly. So hurriedly in fact, her eyes almost roll right off her face. Her head spins and Mandy almost missed the broad grin carved on his face. The pirate turns his body to face her, resting his head on the palm of his hand.

“What's ye name again, lass? I didn't catch it.”

“Mandy”, she responds, scraping the shabby wood.

He acknowledges her name with a low hum. Mandy raises hazel orbs from the wood to give him an inquisitive glance.

“What about you?” She questioned, the high pitch of her voice wobbling.

“Harry. Uh, Hook. Harry Hook.”

She was just about to inform him that “it's just Mandy” for her. But Uma – her crew chants her name all too often for her to forget it – comes back to them. Two plates in hands.

She places one plate in front of her. Fried clams and French fries faces her. The rumble of her stomach causes her cheeks to burst in embarrassment. Uma chuckles and with a ruffle of hair invites her to take a bite. Mandy doesn't need to be asked twice.

Uma passes his plate to Harry. He digs in his fries and she ops on a chair to cross the other side of the counter. She reached the button of the tv to turn it on. The slight buzz on the screen fills the silence of the room.

The sea witch fills her hands with all that is out of place: mostly steins and bowls that fell out of their shelf. She grabs a rag to scrap at the remains of food left on the screen.

Suddenly, periwinkle hair and emerald eyes form under her cloth. Uma let her hand fall to her side. She takes a step back to absorb all Mal's Auradon's aura. Concentrated in the way she talked – so courteous and smooth. The way she stands – shoulders not hunching, chin high, chest forward. Pride in the Lady's court smile.

And usually resentment and rage would combust in her insides.

The events of cotillion had her thinking. She spent six months pinning their miserable states of life on Mal. And why is that? Because she portrayed her as a traitor. In turning her back on evil, she'd forgotten all that were remaining on this godforsaken island.

However, was it really up to her? To alter whatever destiny that were chosen for them?

Maleficient's daughter wasn't even the Lady's court at the time. So, even if she – _hypothetically speaking_ – did want to act, the decision doesn't fall on her. Even now, as she's the... What? Fiancé, Bride? Whatever. Uma knows that she does not have the power to make this decision – _the place, god damn it_. Only the influence to make it happen.

And frankly, Uma likes to think that the only influence she got to have is under the sheets.

The sea witch can't help but let escape a sneer from under her mask of concentration.

So yeah. What Uma did comprehend is that she's directing all her bitterness at the wrong person.

_Rightfully so, ain't that right?_

Her eyebrows knitted in the center of her forehead. Misty browns look up from the rag she was holding to the smile of the Lady of the court, addressed to the reporters. She heard a faint growl in the distance as she turns off the tv.

Uma tosses the cloth on the table, before she goes up on a chair. She rises on top of it and passes over the blank space between the counter and the seat.

The wood cracks under her heels and Harry looks up from his food to give her a simper. His captain takes a place beside him on the counter. She rests her boots on the chair and leans back, blowing some lost braid out of her face. Her lips part to let out a deep sigh and her shoulders slump.

“Ye not eating anithin'?”

“Already munched on some fish cake, I'm not that hungry”, she finished, waving his worry off.

He pushes his tray in her direction. She gives him a glare.

“Ya know I hate French fries.”

“What about clams, eh?” He responds, a sly grin stretching his lips.

He knows she adores them, the bastard. She snarls at him, but still extends a hand towards his plate. She chews on the food and his lips curls on some more fries.

Hook cleans off the oil on his lips with the back of his gloved hand. He turns his attention to the empress at his side.

“Did ye thought about a way to put a roof over our new comrades’ head?”

“I did", she breathes, twisting a braid between her fingers. "I was thinking of abandoned premises. We could just reorganize 'em, what do you think?”

“That could work.”

Harry's seemed ready to articulate his next thoughts, when he steals a glance towards the kid. Who was hunching over her plate to hear anything.

He leans closer to Uma and she responds by lowering her head. He proceeds to whisper:

“Just hoping we won't run into the owner, or worse, a new occupant. Ye know better than I do that these homes are abandoned because of what happens to their owner.”

“I know.”

Her features steeled. She heard from her Ma – because she was a slut for drama – that the latest one was the Queen of Hearts. Her daughter ran out of home. Leaving the queen all by herself – her husband long gone, weary of her narcissistic tendencies and her craving for control. It was more that she could bare – _no one to give me attention? Put my head in a noose!_ pestered Ursula. Quite literally.

“We'll have to be cautious”, Uma adds.

She catches the sharp nob Harry gives her, before the cook appeared out of the kitchen. The sea witch's daughter leaves her spot on the counter. The woman greats her with a smile.

“I'm off”, she affirms when Uma is close enough to hear her.

The teen acknowledged her with a nod of her head. There's a moment of silent, when the browns she'd seen less dull just stares off in the distance. Her lips part to inquire about her well-being, but the words dies on her lips.

“There's an empty place in your building!” Uma exclaimed out of the blue.

“What? Well, there is but what for?”

A glint of pure hope breaks out from under the veil of dullness.

“Harry and I are trying to find a safe home for some orphans we took in earlier in the day.”

The chef's lost look melts away to reveal a broad smile. She settles her hands upon Uma's shoulders, beaming at her. And Uma feels the warmth of her palms pooling in her insides. She'd always stiffened when feeling that way. Sure, she's used to her first mate's proximity. However, Lottie's warmth was different. It lodges in her abdomen, loosen up the tension in her shoulders and breaks apart all her hard countenance. She can't decide between hating it – because Uma just feels so open – or cherishing the state of tranquility it brought her.

“I would love to help you find them a place to stay. I think the apartment was deserted. It's in a descent state, so there wouldn't be much to do. Apart from bringing over all that they'll need to feel comfortable.”

Her exclamation brings back Uma from her reverie.

“Oh, uh, yeah, great. Then I'll just have to send my crew hunting for some necessities.”

She thinks this could work. She'll have Jonas, Gonzo – not Desiree or Bonnie, she got other plans for them – pilfer the market for some blankets and pillows. She wonders if they'll be able to sneak out of the bazar some mattresses. Uma will have to sort through all that tomorrow.

“That's a plan. I can also help reorganizing the apartment. It'll definitely need some sweeping.”

“Right”, Uma agrees.

The teen graces her with a gentle curve of her lips. She appeared so serene and levelheaded that Lottie doubted the girl's identity. Was it really the same Uma who declared to eradicate her enemy through mollusks thrown on screen?

“Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. We'll figure out the rest.”

“That works for me.”

Lottie passes through the doors and she follows her with her eyes, hands on hips. God, what was she even doing on this fucking dump? A sigh passed through her lips and she went back to join her two guests.

Just as they pushed away their dinner plates, empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! You've made it to the bottom, and for that I'm grateful. 
> 
> This chapter consisted in the introduction of one of the orphans, Mandy. Like I said in the previous chapter, the presence of the orphans will represent the change of heart of Uma. You saw just a glimpse of this change in this chapter, but it will be more present in the future. I wanna take things slow and carefully set the scene before delving into the charters’ evolution. All I can say for now is that Uma intends to take care of her people before even rethinking about taking over Auradon. 
> 
> And what do you think about that? Do you approve her process of thoughts? Or do you think she should just plain to take over Auradon already? Because that’s as real as a chance these children would ever get?
> 
> And what’s your thoughts about Mandy? What do you think is her story? 
> 
> Let me know in the comments, I would absolutely love to read your feedbacks!
> 
> And before I go, I just wanted to thank you for your responses (of any kind). I’m new to this, so this totally warmed my heart and boost my confidence. Ok, I’ll end this rant lol. I’ll see soon, take care <3


	3. Finding home

 

Harry leaves his seat to tend to their plates. The corners of his lips slightly rise when he catches her eyes. Uma honored him with a tender smile.

 

The sea witch approaches the little girl. She maintained her balance with one leg, while her knee rested on the seat. Uma leaned over the girl's face, propping her fists on the wood.

 

“So, I still don't know your name.”

 

A grimace contorts her young features.

 

“Because you didn't ask for it.”

 

Uma hums in agreement, throwing back her head, eyes on the celling.

 

“I'm doing it now: what's your name, girl?”

 

“Mandy. And I already know your name, I heard it all day long”, adds in the kid, preempting her question.

 

The captain can't, for the life of her, repress the laugh that shakes her shoulders and aches her cheeks. And Mandy wonders what she said to make her laugh. Apart from the truth.

 

“I'm not the captain for nothin', sweetheart”, Uma smirked, canines forward.

 

Mandy contemplates her features, while fiddling her fingers. From the corner of her eyes, Uma notes the begging of a laceration on her uncovered forearm. Urgent fingers fold her shirt over the wound, dried blood on the seam of the garment.

 

“Just a cut”, she says hurriedly, her eyes flitting away.

 

Uma refrained from commenting. Instead, she redirects hazel eyes on browns with a gentle grip. She considers the dirt on her forehead. Finds another cut on the high of her right cheek, previously hidden by blond stands of hair – that she arranges behind her ear. Her lips pursed in thought and she released the girl's face. Much to the latter's content.

 

“Bath tonight. No discussion.”

 

She contains a growl within her throat. Because, honestly, Mandy would just like to lay down. Fucking _anywhere_. That's why she just buries her head in her arms. Holding back a wince when her head hits her injury.

 

Uma hits the counter, satisfied, and goes back to the kitchen. She finds Harry diving the last plate in the sink. Cerulean eyes deep in the soaped water. Jaw set in concentration, mousy hair falling on his forehead, he seemed so focused it was almost comical.

 

She leans on the doorway, folding her arms on her chest. All the while, Harry swipes at his forehead with the back of his hand to chaste away some stands of hair. The young man manages to leave some soap on his temple. With a snort, Uma grabs a rag on the counter beside her.

 

Hook hears steps heading towards him, which interrupts his diligence. He turns in time to catch brown eyes and a hand holding a cloth.

 

“Uma?” He inquired with a tilt of his head.

 

“Hold still”, she murmured.

 

Perched on the tip of her toes, he places a hand on the small of her back to stabilize her. Her breath heats up his cheeks and his captain swab at his forehead casually. Her task completed, she puts the cloth on the counter with one hand and pass the other through Harry's hair, eyes trained on his scalp. He couldn't help but soften in her hand.

 

His sea empress pats his torso, before adding:

 

“You're welcome.”

 

Having said that, she expected her friend to release his hold on her back. But she feels Harry’s chin dipping low, until it reaches her shoulder. Leaning on her, he hides his face away in her neck.

 

Uma sighs.

 

She lets him breath in her scent until his lungs explode. His shoulders sank down, and she slides the hand she rested on the counter up on his side. 

 

The flash of a torrential night comes back to mind, and Uma clutches his tank top.

 

He feels the point of her nails through the shreds and he exhales gently.

 

“You have to go home, Harry”, she whispers, lips on his hair.

 

But he is already.

 


	4. Don't know how...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m… Grateful.” She confesses to her back. “I am… I just, don’t know…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know how to start lol. Hi, I'm sorry for all the delay. I’ve got big exams coming, and I didn’t even find the time to update. No worries though, I’ll try to keep a semblance of a publishing rate, but I just can’t promise anything. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy this chapter and I’ll meet you at the end.

Uma urges him to leave, reminding him of the child she had entrusted in his care. As she handed him his hook, she summoned him to take care of him. She felt his sullen mood was getting worse these days. That's why she

permits him to display vulnerability in the back of her kitchen.

 

But _fuck_ , take her words for it: If Harry didn't return to her, she'd go get him herself.

 

After his departure, she sealed the doors of the restaurant for the night. The young girl calls out for Mandy and together they head to the second floor.

 

She presses the girl to remove whatever rags she had on. Mandy complies and wait for her in the bathroom. Only wrapped in a small towel that reeks of old people. _Probably her mom's_ , she thinks, bringing the cloth to her

wrinkled nose.

 

Uma reappeared, clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts. But most importantly to Mandy, with a basin of steaming water. She sets it beside the bathtub.

 

The sea witch invites Mandy to hops up with the shake of a hand towards the bath. The twelve years old let the towel fall to her feet before entering. A shiver racks her body as soon as her feet touch the ground.

 

Uma moved her braids aside and grab a hold of the basin to move it closer. She cups some water with a small bucket and pour it in the bath.

 

A soothing warmth engulfs her bottom and feet. She rests her head on her folded arms, a delighted sigh escaping her thin lips.

 

The young teen fills the bucket with the bath's water and adds up the water from the basin to cool it.

 

“I'm going to pour it on your head”, she warned.

 

She lets the cascade soak her blond tresses. Her shoulders rise, and her mouth parts in a gasp. Mandy blinks the water out of her lashes. Smoothing her hair on top of her head in the same gesture.

 

Uma continues her ministrations with a washcloth and a rub of soap. She secures with one hand Mandy’s face. Then, she drags the washcloth on her forehead, scarping at the grime there.

 

While washing her body, Uma pushes her to talk some more.

 

“How old are you?”

 

She delicately drags the washcloth along her - _too prominent_ – ribs.

 

“I’m twelve.”

 

_Jesus_ , Uma feels like she could shatter under her grip. She wets her bare lips with a flick of her tongue.

 

Her fingers clutch the soap. She rubs it between her hands, filling them with the product. Then, she runs her palms through Mandy’s hair. Making sure the soap penetrates her blond tresses.

 

Mandy relishes in the feeling of her fingers on her scalp. Her eyes flutters in content. Her chest heaves in a sigh – muffled by her arms.

 

A drop of water lost its way out of Uma’s hands and seep in her cut. Her breath hitched in her throat. Uma would have missed her intake of breath if the room wasn’t so soundless.

 

Mandy feels a sip of water run its course through her stands and her head jerks up slightly in surprise. The sound of waves crashing on the sand fills her ears. 

 

The girl exists the bath, all washed and clean. Uma tells her to stay put while she goes to grab some things.

 

“What things?”

 

“I’ll be right back.”

 

Mandy occupies her time by splattering the rest of the water, hunched over the edge of the basin. She catches her reflexion in the water. Clear and clean skin – save for the cut – reflects back at her. She trails frail fingertips

on the high of her cheek. 

 

The sound of boots cracking on the floorboards steals her attention away from her image. She finds Uma at the entrance, bottle – of some brownish liquid – and a rag in hands.

 

Mandy let her hand fall to her thighs and watches the captain of the Lost Revenge fall to her feet. She sets beside her the bottle that rings against the concrete and extend a hand towards her.

 

Mandy pulls back her arm against her stomach, turning her head away from the fierce look Uma gives her.

 

Her arm still extended out, Uma exhaled hotly.

 

“I have to treat it. Before it’s too late and I can’t fucking afford to.”

 

Before she thinks over her words, her mouth opens.

 

“I didn’t ask you to.”

 

The tension in Uma's features soon makes her regret her words. Before she can even afford to form her apologies, the teenager cuts in harshly. 

 

“Just give me your damn arm.” She extended more forcefully her arm towards her.

 

This time, she complies and gently stretches out her arm. Uma delicately seizes the forwarded fingers in hers. She inspected with thoughtful eyes Mandy’s injury. The dried blood around the cut was cleaned by the water.

The bright flush of the wound indicates that it’s still fresh. With one hand, she reaches out to the bottle of alcohol and twist the cap open.

 

The strong smell of whiskey went up the blonde’s nostrils and she wrinckles her nose. Uma covers the top of the half-filled bottle and tilts its body to wet the rag. She’s careful not to spill any liquid on the floor.

 

Uma then turns to the girl’s face. Warns her with a pointed stare and raised brows. Mandy responds by biting the inside of her cheek.

 

The daughter of Ursula starts with a pat on the cut. She hisses in pain. Mandy almost reels back her arm.

 

Uma gives her a moment to process the burn of the alcohol, before proceeding. Her touch is light and deft. So, Mandy mildly complains.

 

But it’s over in no time, and Uma releases her arm. She picks up the bottle and rag at her feet.

 

“I’ll just put those in their places and bring you back a change of clothes.”

 

“What about my other clothes?” She asked, her eyes on her arm, back against her stomach.

 

“You won’t need those tatters anymore.”

 

Hazel orbs snapped up to meet intense browns. Round, wet and full of _something_. Uma couldn’t tell – was it fear, confusion, gratitude?

 

She averts her eyes and leaves the room. Mandy blinks away images of vacant alleys and dismal houses.

 

Uma returns with a long tee she’ll probably wear as a dress. She passes it over her head hurriedly and follows the older girl out of the bathroom.

 

They enter the room that faces the bathroom. Presumably, Uma’s room, if the pirate hat on the nightstand beside the bed was anything to go by.

 

Only the light filtered through the window illuminates the room. Mandy takes a seat on the mattress and it protests under her weight. Uma meets her soon enough – a long sleeved shirt over her shorts.

 

She pulls back the blanket on the bed and covers her lower body with it. Mandy folds her legs to pass them under the cover.

 

Uma’s back faces her. And the words she threw at her earlier emerge back in her mind. She still hadn’t apologized. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip in though, her eyes lost in the older girl’s shirt. The moonlight rain on the wrinkles of the garment.

 

She extends a fist, grabs unto the fabric. The twelve years old feels the girl’s body lightly rose from the surprising touch. Her back turns into brick under her fingertips.

 

Uma picks on the trembling of her fingers through the cotton. Her breath gets stuck in her throat for a short moment. She exhales and the tightness in her back unwind.

 

“I’m… Grateful.” She confesses to her back. “I am… I just, don’t know…”

 

Her mouth hangs open and the words dies on her lips. Desperate wails against bare walls reverberate in her ears.

 

Uma agitates under her grip and forces her to loosen her hold on the shirt.

 

She turns to face Mandy. Her expression is flat, but the brown in her eyes has a sheen of softness. Before the girl can reiterate her apology, she closes the distance between them.

 

“Come here.” She all but murmured while extending her arm. Mandy rests her face on her shoulder.

 

Uma feels the shaking more clearly. 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, I think my attention with this chapter was clear. I don't want people to only retain from the group of orphans as an inseparable mass of people. I really want them to represent real characters, with their life experience, their feelings. So, here’s comes Mandy! This chapter in particular was the introduction of her character. So, do you think about her character? What at your thoughts about the glimpses you saw about her life?   
> And what about Uma? Do you think the way she reacted to Mandy’s behavior was right / wrong?  
> Let me know, I love reading all your thoughts!


	5. Lost Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry was never good at coping with his stress. That’s why he had her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! How are you? Hope y'all had amazing holidays and spent it with your family if you could! I'm back again with an another chapter. I finished it a lot sooner than I expected, so here you go. Hope you'll like it and I'll see you at the end of it.

It’s the feeble light, filtered through grimed windows, that makes his eyes flutter open. Harry drags a hand on the last fragments of his Dad’s broken slurs. He takes into blurred vision his room’s entrance: the chair he placed yesterday still in place. To block out whatever might come through. He’s suddenly reminded of the situation and his vision isn’t blurred anymore. Heartbeats in his ears, the young teen turns to the form beside him.

 

The sight of Ron resting on his arm, chest heaving with gentle inhales and exhales, blocks out the throbbing of his heart for a moment. But soon, the reality of their dreaded destiny – if either of them stays on longer than they should – catches up to him. He swallows the panic that shakes his hands and accelerates his breathing and reaches out to the boy.

 

“Wake up lad, we have to go.” He all but whispers gravelly.

 

A quiet growl responds to his call. Harry though he succeeded in waking him up, when the boy leans back in the crook of his arm. The son of Hook exhaled a growl of his own and passes a jerky hand through his hair.

 

Harry let his body fall on the bed again. His back against the mattress, he takes a greedy gulp of air. He senses through its shabby fabric the kid’s heartbeats. His breath falls on rhythm with the pounding of his heart.

 

Now breathing calmly, Harry distinctively hears the floorboards cracking under heavy boots - well known by the boy’s sides.

 

His blood freezes in his veins.

 

With pupils dilated in horror, and chest heaving in laborious breaths, he grabs onto his hook on the bedside table and hangs it to his belt loop. Takes a hold of the wee kid’s frame. Scoops him up and tries to control their descendant to the floor. He leads them both under the bed. The floor squeals under their weight and he gulped back a swear.

 

He holds on to Ron’s body and he wiggles drowsily between his arms. Erratic chunks of words echo on the walls of the corridor. Harry contains his wheezing breath in the boy’s hair.

 

Within the clutter, he recognizes his sisters’ names. Followed by a question – if he had to go by the inflection of his hoarse voice.    

 

The old rag must be too hammered to remember his daughters leaving.

 

And he was no exception. Not anymore at last.

 

 

Lunch time comes, and Uma expect her crew with great agitation. She retreats from the kitchen, plate in hand, uneasiness pitching her brows. Specifically, because of Harry. Eyes low on some blobs in the plate, her teeth sank on her bottom lip. She prays to Hades himself – yes, she’s _that desperate_ – that he managed to escape his dad’s ship.

 

She slams the metal platter on the covered-tablecloth wood.

 

 _Unarmed_.

 

She feels hazel eyes, coming from the side of her peripheral vision, carved in the back of her head. The thought of Harry’s safety cease to prey on her mind momentarily. Just the time for her lips to arrange in a semblance of a grin.

 

Mandy responds by curling her lips on her fork – lips all jittery and twitchy. And returns promptly to her plate of food.

 

The sea witch was just about to march over to the kitchen once again, when the doors of the dinner burst open. She considers with dull eyes the newcomers.

 

Glossy cerulean orbs capture her own and she swallows a lump of apprehension that constricts her throat. The rest of the crew follows right after Harry.

 

While he drops off his sword in the barrel, he reveals in her field of vision the boy at his side. He seems fine. Apart from the exhaustion that squares his shoulders.

 

Whereas Harry… Brown orbs lingers on his features, studying every crease around his eyes, every twitch of the corners of his lips. She takes on, soon enough, the somber patches under his eyes.

 

The man she was serving calls out to her – mumbling something about the blob looking too compact.

 

She leaves his request unanswered and crosses the room. Her braids trailing behind her in a storm of beryl, greys and teal.

 

Uma goes straight to him. His eyes descent on her face, when she’s close enough. And he permits her to examine the bags weighting under his eyes. Her hand moves to rest on his cheek bone, when she remembers their scenery. The restaurant and all its patrons – heck, her crew. Her fist digs in her side, repressing whatever gesture of affection she was about to demonstrate.

 

“You look awful.” She settles for instead.

 

His low chuckle rambles in her chest. Their crew leaves them alone, aiming for their usual seats.

 

Uma takes notice of the pointed look Harry gives Ron. The boy lazily follows Bonny and Desiree - the latter turning to wait for him. And before catching up to the two, she throws over her shoulder suggestively raised eyebrows at Uma. She responds with a roll of eyes and turns her attention back to her first mate.

 

“I didn’t get much sleep.”

 

He fiddles with stands of mousy stands on his forehead pensively. The sea witch generally can tell what her friend is dwelling on. His expression is too open in her presence, his emotions too _raw_ for her. However, from time to time, those same emotions, expressions are just locked away. The tide that usually stirs the blue of his eyes, drained. And that’s when dread plant its sprout in her abdomen.

 

She tries not to rain on it, gulping down her worry.    

 

“Yeah, no shit”, she tries to lighten up her tone, but a branch of anguish sticks in her throat. 

 

Her eyes lower down, meting the point of his boots. Her fist digs further into her side.

 

 _Come on, Uma. Fucking breath_. 

 

She inhales all the air her lungs can take and exhales through her nostrils. Uma directs her eyes back on his blank face. Her lips parts open, the feared question thick on her tongue.

 

“I’m fine”, he beats her to it, not looking her in the eyes.

 

Her mouth shuts close. Her dark pupils travel up his features. To the tension that stretch the corners of his lips in a thin line, to his round orbs flitting away from her stare.

 

The branch retreats from her throat and she spoke in a clear voice.

 

“I need to make sure.”

 

She tears off her fist from her side – to hell with not showing sentiment.

 

(She’s fucking human, and she got a whole lot of ‘em for Harry. Maybe even too much, sometimes).

 

Uma moves to grab his wrist. His eyes snap up to meet hers, confusion widening his eyeballs.

 

She turns around and he falls in sync with the clicking of her boots in a sigh. Uma alts briefly to discard her apron on the counter. She ignores the bewildered stares their crew give her – _especially_ the smug look Desire offers her, her lips quivering in the palm supporting her head. Uma will have to clear off whatever idea she was coming off with in her mind.

 

The daughter of Ursula leads her pirate up the stairs, to her room. May chance be by her side this one time, and let her mother be in company of her soap operas.

 

They enter her room quickly enough, and Uma gently shut her door behind them. She hisses against the wood and its screech of protest.

She takes a breath to calm the hammering in her ears and faces Harry. He’s got his hands deep in his pockets – and she’s aware it’s to hide away their quivering. His left foot is taping against the floorboards.

 

“You wanna wake up the beast?” She whispered, arms resting on her chest and eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

 

He ceases instantly. And retrieves a hand from his pockets to shoot it through his locks. And she’s damn sure she could feel his heart going through the roof from her distance.

 

Harry was never good at coping with his stress. That’s why he had her.

 

She takes a leisure step towards him – as if to not scare him off – and observes his chest rising with laborious breaths. His teeth are sinking so firmly in his bottom lip that it turns white under the pressure. Cerulean orbs shuddering with fright.

 

She can’t tell what they’re showing him off and it _frightens her_. The branch grows back in her throat, claiming back its place.

 

Two more steps were enough to close the gap between them. She lifts with one finger his face to meet hers. His lips part open to exhale a ragged breath. Frantic half-lidded eyes falling on stern browns.

 

“You’re definitely not fine.”

 

He gulps down the horror eating at his insides.

 

“Uma- “

 

“Did he attempt _anything_?” she cuts him off, her voice insisting on the last word.

 

 “No.”

 

He seems so vulnerable. Bite swollen lips parted open. Hair disheveled, falling over his pitched brows. She hates that his drunken ass of a Dad eats up all his confidence. All of what makes him her _Harry_.

But she can tell in the way his eyes avoid her own. In the way his breath quickens – if it was even possible – against her cheeks, there’s something _else_.

 

“They’re something you aren’t telling me. What is it?”

 

Her tone is demanding and impatient, but her breath is so warm on his face. He tentatively averts his eyes from the wood of the floor. They rise to absorb all the anguish in hers – available for just a flick of a moment.

 

“Me D... (he gulps down those three letters. It’s a title he never deserved) He was awake.”

 

His words rain like water on her branches of dread and they spread out in her guts. She reaches out a hand to grace his cheek. To feel the firm skin under the pads of her fingers. 

 

“Very much off his trolley from the day before, but… Awake.”

 

He shuts his eyes, his lips pressing in a hard line and he leans in her hand for comfort. The thumb she trails on his cheek drew a long breath out of him.

 

“I heard him in the hallway. Roaming like a fucking creep… Chanting the names of me sisters.”

 

He doesn’t comment on the absence of his own name. _What’s the point?_

 

Hook feels loathing rambling in his guts and he blinks his eyes open. He wanders over Uma’s traits, concentrates on the sheen of wetness in her abysmal browns.

 

“I’ve waited until I was _sure_ he finished his walk. The wee lad was asleep, so I had to carry him on me back.”

 

The fright grows back in his guts, pocking at his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs up.

 

“But he… He was still here.” Harry’s head twitches to the side, in the hopes of clearing his mind of the man’s figure, looming in the darkness of the corridors.

 

Topped by a flash of silver, glistening in the dim-lighted hallway.

 

“He… thought we were strangers…”

 

 _Which is kinda the case for Ron but isn’t for Harry… Right?_ Wonders Uma inwardly _._

 

Flashes of a heavy coat rising from the floor, howling over the floorboards, wailing under bulky boots.  Hook in all its polished glory, at his hand. Harry’s tongue darted out and moisten his chapped lips.

 

“I heard him mumble something like _no Lost Boys in my house_ , He- “Sudden fire racks his insides at the very thought and cuts him off.

 

“… Took us for some _fucking_ Lost Boys, Uma!” he outraged, his jaw set in ire.

 

“Whatever was in this asshole’s booze gave him hallucinations, for _sure_.” She presses more soundly her palm on his skin. “What did he do next?” Uma asks in a solid voice.

 

She watches his expression of anger crumble in shreds. Rebuilding in dismay; in the mist of his eyes, in the crinkle between his brows.

 

“I… He, his hook – no, _He_ brandished his hook at me and the boy…” He scrubs away the vision emerging in his mind. “I had to… stop him. So, I took out me own hook to threaten him. But he just…”

 

The raspy voice howl in his ears to “ _just get the hell out_ _of his home”_.

 

“… Kept shouting for us to leave”.

 

_He approaches more closely. Getting more sloppily violent. But still violent, nonetheless – he got the kid with him. Promised Uma to keep ‘m safe._

 

Harry stares right through her. His gaze lost over her shoulder.

 

“So, I call out to him. Thinkin’ maybe I’ll shake him awake.”

 

_At this point, he just let his hook hit the floor, colliding with the wood in a metallic crash. With a fist full of his under-shirt, he installs a safe distance between them. Occasionally dodging broking swigs in his direction. He got a stable hand under the kid’s bottom, but won’t keep it very long._

_Harry calls out to his Dad. He keeps incoherently rambling._

_Over his own yelling, he swears hearing something about Peter Pan. Was that even surprising?_

_Deciding he’s fucking through with this, Hook indicates that he’s his son. For him to finally recognize Harry._

Uma doesn’t know how to translate his continued silence. Like a need for space? A moment to gather his thoughts?

 

She wrestles with her mind for a response, when Harry opens his mouth.

 

“I did wake him up.”

 

 _No son o’ mine is a Lost Boy_. _Because I’d kill him if he is_.

 

And of fucking course he manages a full sentence, in which he proclaims killing his son if he was a Lost Boy.

 

Glassy pale blue eyes focused back on hers. And she doesn’t need him to explicitly repeat the words pronounced by his piece of shit of a father. Uma reads it in the quivering of his chin. The biting of his lips – to contain a damn sob to part open his lips.

 

And her head is back under boisterous platters of water, unleashed by the distant howling of the salted wind. Sipping through her bones at the dead of night.

 

The only constant phenomenon in the middle of this downpour: her two palms framing his face.

 

The warmth – or what’s left of it – spreading through each fibers of the surface of his cheeks. Warmth dragging along the column of his neck. Warmth on the peek on his shoulders. Warmth blossoming on the high of his abdomen.  

 

Harry responds by delving in deep. Submerged by the tide high of her warmth. His arms enclosed around it.

 

Uma feels in the crook of her neck the point of his teeth gracing her smooth skin. Senses the ragged tremor of his entire body against hers. He choked back a whimper and she grips a fist full of his tank top.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did ya like it? ;) 
> 
> No but seriously? It’s a shot in the dark with this one. I wanted to portray stress induced by the mistreating of Harry’s Dad, and how he chooses to cope with it. By not acknowledging his mind’s response and put a manageable distance between him and his mind to not actually deal with the problem, and not risking drowning into it. I don’t know if I make sense (probably not).  
> And I don’t really know if I succeeded in portraying that. What do you think? Did it seem believable enough?  
> Oh, and what do you think about the comfort Uma tries to give him? Despite all the isle’s forbids, she’s here for him. Even if it means she must show it through gestures. I wanted to emphasize on the fact that she does this because she cares about him. 
> 
> So yeah, thanks for reading and I’ll see you soon.


	6. Taking action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So. Y’all know how we’ve been struggling to find a place for our new little friends here.”

With a pat on the high of his left shoulder, she signals him that it’s time. Time for them to put aside what just happened. Locked away, deep under layers of memories.

Sweep away all traces of emotions, replacing them with expressions of lazy indifference. And they’re good to go.

Nevertheless, their demeanor may be controlled and frigid – like they wish them to be – but their insides ring with life. They chant the warmth of their feelings, smothered in the depths of their hearts.

Only the gentle pull of his lips – intending for her only –, a vestige of what had transpired.

Hook exits the door wordlessly. Leaving Uma alone in the room, facing her bed. Her gaze ascending to find a cracked crystal ball on the shelf above it. A snort came through her nostrils.

Never mind the risks. Uma will always offer him comfort – in the back of her room, kitchen, quarters… anywhere. She’ll ensure his safety by shielding him from all the outside’s attacks.

And if it means peeling away her hard exterior, then so be it. He will always be worth it. Her gaze on the crystal ball steadied in conviction.

Uma turns on her heels, delicately closing the door after her. She takes the stairs back to her hell of a routine.

The sea witch retrieves her apron, left off on the counter – takes in her field of vision all her crew, seated and waiting for food. She ties the garment swiftly around her waist and enters the kitchen.

The plates were waiting to be picked. Uma makes sure that the dishes she’d busied her arms with are destined for her crew – Lottie tells her so with a quicken breath.

She exits the room – minding the gap at its entrance, plates in hand slightly wobbling. Her braids trailing behind her, she wove between tables.

The Lost Revenge’s captain abandons her burden at her crew’s table.  
A deep sigh heaves her chest.

“I got one Chum.”

“That’s for me.” Declares a gruff voice. Uma’s brown eyes quickly flicker up to find its provenance. She meets inky orbs gazing back at her.

Jonas is settled between Bonnie and Gonzo. A hand lazily propped up under his chin. The sea witch send him an amused grin and pushes the tray in his direction. He’s in the middle, wouldn’t be hard to catch it.

He stops the platter’s course with the slap of a gloved hand on its metal body. Some of the content splatters out. The side of his lip twitches up back at her. She smirks at the next platter in response.

She serves Desire next. Ursula’s daughter returns to the kitchen to bring back the next orders. One Squirm and a Gulf Goo. Slams the Squirm in front of Mandy’s brother.

“There you go, Ron.” She exhales languidly.

The blond boy with hazel eyes – _gosh, so similar_ – turns towards her.

“How do you know my name?” he questioned, pupils round with confusion.

“Your sister talks in her sleep.” She deadpanned, keeping a smile from creeping on her lips when her ears catch the grunt of the girl beside him.

“Still?”, he asks her with an entertained twinkle in his eyes. His sister trapped her steaming face in her arms.

“I didn’t say anything weird”, she mumbled to the fabric of her shirt. “I’d say otherwise”, Uma murmured loud enough in the boy’s ears for her to catch it.

“Not true!” Mandy exclaims, red face in the open, hair tousled.

The blond boy giggles behind his fist and his sister berates him for laughing at all. And Uma feels the sound of their squabble vibrate in her guts. The smile she kept from forming on her lips emerging back. She faints scrubbing her nose to keep it out of view.

Once all her crew have their faces deep in their plates, she grips at her apron. Uma peels off the piece of fabric off her chest and let it fall to the ground. Inhales the cooking oil colored air of the kitchen. Eyes shutting close for a moment of imagined silence.

Amidst the whistling pots and the knives beating the counters, she picks up the clicking of metal against wood. A sound Uma knows all too well. She cracks an eye open.

A flash of fries and clams evade her field of vision. She trails along the hand that clutches the plate and the edges of her lips twitch up. She finds pools of nut-brown and tousled stands of ginger, up in a bun.

“Bon appétit”, Lottie grinned.

The girl arched a brow at her, while holding a fry in her hand.

“What? Gil spends way too much fucking time in here.”

Uma chuckled around her fry, and almost chokes on it. She gets rid of her urge to cough through a pat on her chest and proceeds to dig in her clams.

She spends a good five minutes engrossed in her food, when she remembers something. Uma stops filling the inside of her cheeks with crustaceans. Chew down the rest of food in her mouth and pushes her way out of the room, plate in hand.

The sea witch’s daughter smashes her tray on the table.

The howling and disputes progressively ceased, and completely fades to the background when she sets her hands on the table to support her weight.

She bends over them, face not displaying any of the thoughts working under her skull.

All of their eyes are on her.

“So. Y’all know how we’ve been struggling to find a place for our new little friends here.”

She witnessed the ones mentioned crack a smile, snort or even roll their eyes.  
“Well…” she continued, centering her focus back on the eyes on her. “The struggle is over. Yesterday, me and Harry found a place.”

Their reactions were immediate. They all start to pounder on the table or whistle vehemently.

The captain jiggles the fingers of her left hand in the face of the boy beside her. He promptly extends a hand in her direction. Her hand secured in his, the brunette invites her to climb on his chair, stepping away from it with a reverence.

Uma rises up the chair and into the table in two steps. She instantly gains back the attention of most of her crew – some too engaged in their conflicts to train back their eyes to her.

“Settle in, boys” She admonished them, eyes lowering on their faces. “You’ll have to listen carefully to what Imma about to say, because I won’t repeat it.” Her warning, toppled by Harry’s heated glare – and the icy flash of his hook – seemed to do the trick.

“First, I want you to _shop_ (some laughs there) at the market for necessities. Of any kind. Then, you’ll arrange the empty apartment in the cook’s building – don’t forget to ask her for the address.”

Uma falls to the eye level of the second girl of the orphans’ group. She finds pools of silver, with charcoal bangs falling over them, staring in wonder. The sea witch lift a finger under her chin and declares: “Do act selfishly by asking anything you want.”

A quiet giggle fell from the girl's lips. Her eyes shoot right up in awe at the captain’s figure rising above her. Like the surge of waves against thick rocks, filaments of beryl, greys and teal wash over her self-assured expression.

She pushes them over her shoulder and pursue: “I’ll check on your progress once my shift is over.” She shifts her weight on her left leg, the wood wailing under her heel.

“Any question?”

Her pools of raw umber roamed among the faces of her attendance for any clue. “So, I take it you’ve all understood your task and no fault will be committed?” The captain of the Lost Revenge demended.

Again, no sound of protest whatsoever. Chin high, Uma hummed contently. She turns her back to leave. When a though struck her. “I almost forgot!” she exclaimed, facing them again.

“Bonnie and Desire, you’ll take these ladies over there to Curl up and Dye”, she motions to the two girls of the group. Those two exchange a look of confusion. “I believe you need a good trim, girls.” Uma snickered.

On that note, she turns once again and advanced her fingers at the boy from earlier.

Once Uma landed on her two feet, she was about to take his seat, when he extended a finger at her. She raised a brow at his demand, when he darted away, across the room. She observes him navigating through the patrons, halting in front of her coral throne, sitting on top on the scene.

A smirk hollows out her cheeks.

He returns promptly at her side and sets the throne behind her. She greedily takes her seat and throws a leg over the other, leaning against its back.


	7. Laughing away the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Hope you doin well. I'm here to bring you the next chapter of this story. I'm sorry for all the delay, college is keepin me busy, so I don't have much time for writting. But I try to squeeze in some time for it. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy anyway, and I'll see you at the end <3

Soon enough, twisted laughter and heated conversations tone down as her crew finish their dishes – or what’s survived their food battle.

 

It’s her first mate who lead them out of the ship shoppe. Through a great deal of shoving and glowering. He bids her adieu through a languid wink. Uma responded by an exaggerated eye roll.

 

Harry left the ranched-style doors swaying behind him and swiftly turns on his heels. He faces his fellow pirates with gleaming eyes and a roguish grin tugging at his lips.  Playing with the skull embracing his forefinger, he croons “Time to get some work done, folks.”

 

Everyone attend to their task, without being told twice. Bonny and Desire off to Curl up and Dye. Jonas, Gonzo, Gil and Hook going off towards the Chef’s building – her address crippled between the latter’s fingers. And the rest of the crew on their way to the market place.

 

Hook lifted the paper close to his nose, confronting the scribble notes to the ones fading with time on the edifice’s façade. Well, if you’ll call an edifice some slabs of cement sloppily put together. Harry’s torso inflates with a long inhalation.

 

Releasing air through his nostrils, he takes out his frustration on the paper. Distorting its ink to his heart’s content. He throws it over his shoulder and racks his hair out of his face.

 

The rest of the group sat throughout his entire fit of rage. They even vowed hearing him filtering insults at the rumpled paper between tight teeth. The boys shared an exasperated look.

 

Jonas, arms resting on his torso, breaks away from their group to inquire in a blank voice “So?”

 

The maniac that serves their captain under the title of Fist mate, jolted towards him. In a way that suggested Jonas that he hadn't noticed him coming forward.

 

“That’s the one.” He rolls out an arm towards the building’s entrance. “You sure? I mean it’s not like we saw you goin’ nuts over the chef’s paper”, stepped out Gonzo, quirking an eyebrow, irony dripping from his lips. Both Gill’s and Jonas’s attention fall on him – the latter highly amused.

 

Harry’s traits contracted in an annoyed pout, “It’s the last block of cement of this scabby street. Come on, move yer arses.”

 

They comply without emitting a word – only grumbles of dissent were heard from Gonzo’s mouth. 

 

The troop consisted of teenagers soon climbed the stairs and reached the floor that housed the vacant apartment. Again, indicated by the chief's draft, that now laid between the hollows of some cobbles in the middle of the street.

 

May the Gods bless whatever memory skills Harry had left.

 

Discolored wood and sunless alley composed the scene they stumble upon. Only the occasional rays of sun, seeping through the alley’s window, provided enough light for the boys to identify their surroundings.

 

Hook stops at the door, causing Gil – who was trailing behind him – to bump in his shoulder. And before the two others have the chance to question his behavior, Harry turns to face them.

 

While the son of Gaston scratches his nose, Hook began, “We have to make sure it’s empty.”

 

With knitted brows, Jonas retorted “The chief didn’t say she’d do some swiping?” Hook points out the evident, “What if she didn’t?”

 

“Guess we’ll have to find out”, interjects the youngest of the Gaston’s siblings, shrugging. He’s up and ready to overtake Harry, when the latter stops him dead in his track. A hand firmly resting on his torso, he drawled his command, “Ye stay here.” He shook his head yes and enables Harry to redirect his attention to the door.

 

He held in a breath and extends his fingers towards the handle. Leather cladded-hand filled with the metal of the knob, he twists it carefully. 

 

The door screeches open, revealing to the boys the clear living-room. No sign of life whatsoever. _Fan-fucking-tastic_ , signed the pirate inwardly.

 

Suspicion slightly heaving off his shoulders, he takes a step forward. He signals the rest of the crew to stay away.

 

Harry halts in the center of the room. From his position, he takes a good appreciation of his surroundings. Thus noting the two other spaces – not quite rooms, as there were not divided by walls – that composes the entire piece of living.

 

He finds no fresh food left abandoned, no bed on the ground and no belongings scattered on the ground. So, he proclaims the place safe to his fellow pirates.

 

Jonas proposes - as soon as he joins Hook - to put the room back in order. He adds that the chef probably didn't have time to deal with it – “being all captive and all that, you know”, “Isn’t she working?” Interjected Gil, “You call working being in the same room twenty four hours a day doing the same goddamn task?”, “Yes?...”

 

So, they start cleaning – with occasional growls from Harry and the lecture on the definition of working by Jonas to Gil in the background.

 

While they’re so fixated on arranging the state of the apartment, a frail knock steals their attention away.

 

Gil armed with a rolled carpet, safely covering his middle, asks: “Who could that be?”

Harry, who already sent his coat flying, opened his lips to answer his friend. When he catches what he’s been carrying, and his words die on his lips.

 

“Where did you find that?”

 

“What, this? I found it in the corner, by this door.” He finishes, pointing out the far-off wall, on the other side of the room.

 

“Okay, weird, how did we miss a _door_?” Gonzo questions by the window, a rag filling his hands – among other thing, like cobwebs. He hated feeling them on his skin. But preferred dying than to reveal this piece of information to anyone.

 

“You mean how mister all hook and no brains missed an _entire door_.” Offered Jonas, appearing at his side, coat also missing from his body.

 

Harry flashes his hook at Jonas in a silent warning – supported by his conspicuous glower.

 

“Is there someone in here?” Startled by the stifled feminine voice, they all cease their bickering.

 

“Chief is that you?” Questions Gil, dropping his rolled carpet to the floor in a blast of dust and dashing to the entrance without waiting for an answer.

 

He revealed a red head behind the door. Her stance crushed by whatever she was carrying.

 

“Hi Gill.” She drawled out, short-winded. He beams at her in response. “Huh, let me in?”

 

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” The boy steps aside to let her walk through.

 

The woman let go of all that was on her back. Brushes some stands back on her scalp and takes a long breath.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner to clean this place up”, she spoke, eyes trained on her skirts, dusting them off. “But I’m here now, so let’s get to it boys”, she finishes, a spark of determination igniting her gaze.

 

The boys shared synchronized signs and glances between them. Only the youngest of the Legume’s siblings seems to feel the conviction Lottie gave off.

 

That’s how they spent the entire afternoon prepping the space for its future occupants. They also forced the sealed door Gill noticed earlier. That uncovered a whole new space – that time divided by walls. “Great, more sweeping” had commented Jonas.

 

Once the rest of the crew came back from their journey to the market, they were able to supply the surface with furniture. That’s when Harry deemed okay to leave them the final tasks and slipped silently through the door. Off to meet Uma – who, he supposes, was left to tend to the dinner by herself, the Chief being here. Leather coat thrown over his shoulder – because if the red dusted all over his cheeks indicates something it’s that he’s sticking with sweat. And not that the very idea of returning to his sea empress thrilled him. Not exclusively at least.

 

He promptly arrived at his destination. Walks through the doors, the figure of his captain materializing behind the counter, right in his field of vision. Leaning against the entrance, tilting his head to the side, he followed her movements from under lowered eyelids.

 

The creases on her forehead, created by the scowl contorting her features suggests Harry that Uma’s after something. That, and the amount of din her research was provoking. 

 

Too worked up by whatever she was after, she didn’t notice his presence.

 

After a while, Harry heard glass clink against each other. And he watches his captain retrieve glass and bottle of booze from under the counter. Beaming at her find, that’s when she detaches herself from her treasure-trove long enough to notice his glorious presence.

 

She shoots him a glare and he responds by a languid grin.

 

“Hey”, he greets her, sluggishly making his way towards her.

 

“Hey. How long you been there?”

 

“Long enough to see ye rummage through this drawer, darlin’.”

 

One corner of her lips twitches up and she reaches for another glass.

 

“Care to join?” she asks, slamming the glass onto the wood. “Don’t even ask.”

 

Harry negligently tossed his leather coat on the tool next to his own. Uma pours him a glass of alcohol and he takes a hold of it before sitting. He gulps it in one swing, shakes off the fire in his throat and sets down the glass back on the counter.

 

Ursula’s daughter appraises him with pools of worn out browns. Dust all over his tank top, hugging his torso with sweat probably, and his mop of brown hair running wilder than ever. His half-lidded gaze tells her that he’s exhausted. More so than this morning, if that’s even possible.

 

She spills the intoxicating liquid inside her own glass and let it burn its way down her throat. Gives her the audacity to speak up, “You look worse than this morning.”

 

His cerulean pools bore into her own. She’s always the first to bring it back to the surface. He knows she’s concerned. But he would just like to shove it down his memory. Just for this night.

 

He takes her fist in his palm. Pry it open and just lay it upon his steaming cheek. A sigh breaks his lips open. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

 

She presses her palm further onto his cheek, protest on her tongue. “Not now, please.”

The fatigue in his whisper kills the words threating to spill out of her mouth. She places another hand to his right cheek. Runs her thumb under his closed lid.

 

They ended leaving her ma’s shoppe behind after a few more drinks. She did feel rather light-headed on their way to Lottie’s building. She’s supposed to check on their work once they got there. She’ll just put together a collected façade and pray it’ll be somewhat believable. 

 

But Harry is making her laugh too loud and she just feels like his gaze holds too much warmth for her to stand it. Uma’s sure she could fly away from here at any given moment, from how light she feels. When did she become such a light weight?

 

 _Yeah, blame it on the alcohol_. She doesn’t have anything else to blame it on. But goddamn it, she’s in public.

 

Uma's fucking beat.

 

She shakes away all feelings and thoughts that could affect her composure before reaching their destination.

 

They arrived before the door of the apartment and Uma knocks languidly against the wood. While they wait for a response, Uma replaced the strap of her back pack against her shoulder. She feels the weight of the two bottles of booze she shoved down there. Uma hopes this little gift for their work will please them.

 

It’s Gill who comes to meet them. Broad smile stretching his lips, all the way to his cheeks.

 

“Uma!”

 

“Hi, Gil. Hope you did good in there.”

 

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He spoke proudly, inviting them to step inside with an extended arm.

 

Uma directs an arched eyebrow at her first mate. He wiggles his brows in response. She snorts and steps inside.

 

The scene she stumbles upon drew a smile out of her. Warm plates of food in the hands of settled children on mattresses, lined up in the middle of the living room – and covered in cottony blankets, might she add. She appraises the rectangular carpet under the row of beds.

 

“I’m the one who found this carpet”, Gill informed her when he noticed her lingering gaze on the intricated patterns.

 

She redirects her attention on Gill and pats him on the shoulder. He beams at her and puffs out his chest.

 

Before she gets a chance to join the children, – she glances at Mandy and finds her brushing through her new bangs self-consciously, avoiding her stare – the door on their right slams open and still their attention away. 

 

Lottie emerges from behind the doors, followed by the rest of her crew. She quickly skims through the new arrivals’ features and immediately settles on Uma’s. She offered her a weary smile.

 

“You came.” She wipes her hands on her apron.

 

“Thanks for all the work you did.”

 

“Oh, well. It was a team effort”, she smiled, directing her glance on her comrades. They shared her content modestly – trough raised corners and approving nods.

 

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” She asks, a glint of humor in the back of her brown eyes. 

 

She shoots a brief look at Mandy. She replies with an energic shake of her head, and a buoyant look. Uma gets back at Lottie with a grin: “I’d like that, yeah.”

 

“Well, let me get rid of your bag for you, m’lady”, Jonas spoke up, extending an open palm towards her.

 

“Why, thank you”, the captain chuckles, removing the straps from her shoulders.

 

The sound of glass clicking against each other when she handed him her bag earned her a suspicious look from Jonas. She gave him a wink and turns to the rest of the crew. That’s how she remarks the bright red stands in the middle of Desire’s jet-black nest.

 

She didn’t heard Lottie letting her know she’s off bringing more plates of food.

 

“Wow. Your journey to Curl up and dye really was worth it, apparently.”

 

“You like it?” Desire inquires, pushing forward her stands of red for her to see.

 

“It looks sick.”

 

Uma approaches and holds one of her stand between her fingers. She praises the work of Dizzy and asked Bonny if she done something to her own hair. Bonny signed: “No. Her goddamn hair makeover took so long that I didn’t have time to have my own.” Ursula’s daughter laughs at the offended look Desire addresses her.

 

That’s when Lottie chose to come back with four more plates. Uma helped her carry those and two more plates from the other room. That seems to be rearranged in a temporary kitchen – with pots, silverware and plates on the ground. She’s careful not to knock them out of their emplacements. Her hold is a little unsteady when she brings the plates to the living-room.

 

All the rest of the teens got their butts on the ground, and she doesn’t wait any longer to join them. She hands his plate to Harry – settled in front of Mandi’s and her brother’s bed, his arms resting on top of his crossed legs. He shakes his head no. She raises a skeptical eyebrow at him.

 

“I’m not really hangry”, he elaborates in a silent voice.

 

“As much as you don’t like me skipping meals, I don’t like you skipping meals. So, eat”, she answers, pushing the plate forward.

 

He accepts it unenthusiastically with a whispered “fine”.  She sits beside him, just at the right of Mandi’s side on the mattress.

 

“Hey there.”

 

“Hi.”

 

“How your day been going?” Inquires Uma, blowing on the steams emerging from her food.

 

“Good. I got bangs.” Mandy frees one hand and points out her new haircut.

 

“Suits you.”

 

Pink collected on the high of her cheeks and she bashfully combs through her bangs. Uma takes a spoon of her food. The blond goes on: “Wha… What about you?”

 

“Just finished my night shift, actually.”

 

Mandy nods her head in understanding and picks a spoon of her own food. They ate in silence, appreciating the content of their plates.

 

After their meal, they chat away the night. The booze flooding from the bottles Uma took with her opened up the discussion – revealed only when the kids were tucked into bed. It’s only when they have almost woken up a good part of the children that they decide to call it a night – a long and very much busy night, they all agreed. Desire vacates the premises at Bonny's arm – all the while petting her own hair, astonished by their fluffy quality. Closely followed by Jonas, supported by both Lottie and Gonzo. Who were conscientious enough to not black out while drunk – unlike a certain pirate.

 

That leaves Uma, and both her first and second mate. The three of them decided to retire to another room, as to not risk waking the children up once more – “But I wanted to sleep on my carpet”, protested Gill, “Go on with that bloody carpet and you’ll end up wrapped in it.”

 

They all didn’t question their reasons as to why they’d prefer to sleep on the floor rather than their own beds.

 

With a little bit of rearrangement, they make it work. They found piles of extra blankets the crew picked up from the market that they layered on the floor. Uma did remember to put aside an extra blanket for them to cover up.

 

Soon enough, only the resounding snores, the rustling of sheets and the occasional creaking of worn wood filled the silence.

 

Uma sighs while turning on her side once more. She finds out that as heavy as her limbs made her feel, she can’t find sleep. The hooks of her bra dig in her skin and the waist band of her jeans feels too tight on the rolls of her hips. Hell, even the fabric of her corset feels too rough on her stomach.

 

 _Get over it_ , she berates herself and firmly closes her eyes.

 

Her chest rose in a deep sigh and her ribcage push against the underwires of her bra. A sharp pain shoot through her chest.  She’s had enough. Uma pushes herself up, kicks back the blanket and while repressing a groan, picks at her bra hooks under her her top. Her shoulders sink in relief when she finally unclasped it. She pushes the straps through the sleeves of her mesh top and finishes by snatching her bra by its front gore.

 

 _One down, two to go_.

 

Completely engrossed in her seek of comfort, she doesn’t sense Harry’s movements through the sheets.

 

He rolls on his back. Cracks an eye open and sees her blurry figure detaching itself from the moonshine. Advancing toward the exit of the door, as softly as the floorboards unables it. She opens the door and gently shuts it behind her.

 

Hook pushes back on his scalp the few stands that landed on his forehead and perch himself up on his elbows. That’s how he catches the sight of something darker that the rest of the sheets. Wondering what the hell Uma is doing and thinking that this thing could contribute to answer his inquiries, he reaches a hand to pat it. Only soft fabric meets his fingers. He senses the texture flattening and reforming under the pads of his fingers, depending on the pressure he exerted on it.

 

Intrigued, Harry tries to pierce through the mystery of the weird squishy texture by grabbing a hold of it. As he lifts the material in his hand, what seemed like thick straps under the moonlight dangled in the void. He gauges them briefly before rising to the top.

 

Uma creeks the door open. The first thing that occurs to her when moving to regain her place on the floor is Harry. Holding her bra to the fucking light. Starring right at it, as if his optic nerves short-circuited. 

 

Discomfort quickly rose to her cheeks and speeds up her heart rate. Uma snatched away her bra off his hand when attaining their makeshifts beds.

 

“What the hell, Hook?!” She hissed between tight teeth. Her whispered exclamation seemed to shake up his trance. He settled in his place mutely.

 

Uma, for her part, tries as best she can to collect her clothes – without forgetting her undergarment this time around - in a pile at her feet. She folds up the long T-shirt she borrowed from the bag of clothes Lottie probably left for the children on her bare legs. The girl ends up covering herself with the blanket. Her chest balloons with air.

 

The brogue tone of her friend rings in the silence “Is it – did you…?”

 

Gods… She’s mortified. “What do you think?” Uma pestered nonetheless.

Harry’s really trying not to picture Uma in a set of lingerie. Really tries. But the vision of her curves filled out with black silk got every fiber of his body vibrating. He gulped down the warmth pooling in his chest. His fingers curling around the sheet to tame the tingles eating at his fingers.

 

“Why were you even awake?” Uma asks, turning on him, browns still holding the quake of her anger. He takes a second to adore the ink turning liquid bronze under the light. Before gravelly whispering, “Couldn’t sleep.”

 

He witnesses the soft sheen swallowing her dark irises at his confession. “What about ye?” Harry tries. Her chest heaves in a sigh, “Same.”

 

“But not for the same reasons, I bet”, she adds in, flickering her eyes away from his. “How would ye know? Maybe I need to take off me bra before bed, too”, he grinned coyly. She faces him with a crooked brow. “No offense, but your shirt is way too tight to not let the bra you say you'd be wearing appear.”

 

He faces her, balancing his weight on his elbow and snorts, “None taken. I’ll just remember the fact that you stared long enough to notice the tightness of me shirt.” He spoke in a low seductive tone, while wiggling his eyebrows and dipping his chin downward.

 

Uma turns to lay on her side and chuckles silently, “ _Everybody_ has stared long enough to notice the tightness of your shirt, Hook.” She teases one of the threads of his tank top with the tip of her nail. He graces her finger and traces his way to her wrist. He holds her hand there and she watches him from under delicate lashes.

 

“The important part is that ye did.” His tone is quiet but it still manages to resonate in her chest. She leans into him, rests her head on his torso.

 

Before completely shutting down, she thinks of how his eyes flicker down to her lips for a split second.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1)I don’t know if it came through that way, but I tried to explore different dynamics here. Especially between the different members of the crew. How they interact with each other, how they joke around with each other and all that. I dunno know. What did you think about their interactions? Too forced maybe, or not really in character? I don’t know, you tell me. I’m not really sure how that came out. 
> 
> (2) I don’t know where the obsession with the carpet came from, honestly. It’s just there, and it makes Gil really proud so. 
> 
> (3) Did you see that subtle attempt at comedy? Did you appreciate it, because I certainly did (I was laughing like an idiot when writing it).
> 
> (4) Also, a not so subtle attempt at some Huma scenes. And I really wanna hear your thoughts on that one. Again, did it seem forced? Not in character? Did it simply felt real is what I’m asking really?
> 
> (5) Are we going to talk about the torture us women are faced every day at the hands of our bras? Actually, fun story, the description of the pain Uma feels comes from the memory of my own pain when sleeping with a bra for literally one night (I still remember the underwire pocking out of the fabric to stab me in the chest. Fun time) 
> 
> (6) Jonas and Harry clapping back at each other? Real mood.
> 
> (7) The fact that everyone stares at Harry’s chest and he’s not fazed by it at all? Real real mood. It’s like he just knows, and I live for it. Like I live for him only caring about Uma staring at his chest and not caring one bit about the others.
> 
> (8) I love Uma being all shy and soft, so prepare to see more of it.

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the very end, congrats! 
> 
> So for this first chapter, I really wanted to establish the settings of the story. 
> 
> We find Uma a few months after the disastrous events of the dance party. So, I wanted to show the consequences of the Cotillon and how Uma will react to it. Not just in the moment after, when it’s just fresh (it’s just mentioned), but how it will affect her life style on the isle. The group of orphans will be the representation of this change. So, of course I won’t consider the elements given to us after the end of the film (btw, can we talk about that? It was just so weird and out of place). 
> 
> But enough talking on my side, I wanna hear your thoughts. What did you think of Uma’s behavior regarding the orphans? And speaking of behavior, what do you think is going on with Harry? What’s gotten him so worked up about his dad? 
> 
> Also, let me know of any other thought you have about the characterization of Uma and the other characters.
> 
> Okay, I'm off. I’ll see you soon for the second chapter. Take care, love ya!


End file.
